Some Nights
by HardyBoyz4Eva
Summary: Vince/Phil. Rare Pair! Phil is worried that his master doesn't want him after he attacked him on Raw and got into a physical altercation with one of the fans. Warning(s): Slash, Dom/sub, Punishment, etc. One-Shot!


**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone. I also do not own the title/lyrics used.  
**Rated:** T  
**Warning(s):** Slash, Dom/sub, Punishment, etc.

* * *

_Some nights, I stay up cashing in my bad luck. Some nights, I call it a draw. Some nights, I wish that my lips could build a castle. Some nights, I wish they'd just fall off. _– F.U.N. "Some Nights"

* * *

Phil was absolutely exhausted. In a matter of hours, the controversy that revolved around his attack on an 'innocent' fan had hit the WWE Universe, and the metaphorical shit had hit the fan. But that fan was far from innocent. In fact, all of the fans were a little bit to blame. Phil had taken blows to his kidneys and his back. And then, some idiot had called for him to be shoved down the stairs. That's when he had broken down and _reacted_.

Vince had been pissed off. Well, that was a bit of an understatement. His master had totally shunned him. It was the old silent treatment and it still worked as well as it had the first time that Vince had employed it against him. Phil shivered. That had been 2011, after the match between himself and Triple H at Night of Champions. Phil had learned the hard way that blood is thicker than water, and if he betrayed his 'family', he would be punished.

And wasn't that what he had done out there? He had betrayed his family. He had betrayed Vince. He had struck him across the face and knocked him down. Immediately, when anger and embarrassment flooded Vince's eyes, he knew what was in store for him. Now, only a few hours later, Phil could feel the hairline fractures in his resolve start to crack. He needed Vince with him. He needed him to make the pain vanish.

"Hey there, Phil." Phil turned around at the sound of his name. It was John. "How do you feel? Ryback did quite a number on you yesterday and you look even worse today."

Phil blinked dumbly. He had a killer headache, hadn't slept in two days, and was bruised (and somewhat bloodied) all over. Of course he looked like shit. "I feel like a tractor-trailer ran me down."

John laughed and the sound made Phil flinch. "Yeah. Ryback seems to have that effect on people. I would say sleep it off, but you haven't slept in two days. Try laying on a heating pad, maybe?"

"Don't have one." Phil slurred tiredly. One second, it felt like he would fall asleep on his feet. The next, he was wide awake and sleep was the furthest thing from his mind. "It kinda broke."

"How the hell did you break a heating pad?" John asked, one eyebrow raised.

"Fried the circuit, or whatever the hell you would call it. Poured water on it. It's a long story." Phil rambled.

John nodded. "It sure sounds like it."

Phil and John stood awkwardly for a few minutes, an almost-uncomfortable silence between them. Phil hated the way that John looked at him. It was almost as if his kind, compassionate blue eyes could see directly into Phil's soul. They could feel and read every emotion that passed through Phil's mind. Fear. Hatred. Self-Loathing. Exhaustion. Love. Hope. Sadness. There were so many, it was almost impossible to keep track of them all.

He was just so… _afraid?_... no, afraid wasn't the right word. Phil Brooks wasn't afraid of shit. But he was a little… worried. Yes, worried seemed to fit. He was extremely worried that Vince would just shut him out forever, that Phil had finally crossed that line of no return and that Vince would just be fed up with him this time. And the more he thought about that, the more he realized that maybe he was a little afraid too.

"Vince loves you, you know." John said suddenly. Phil started and turned to him with wide olivine eyes. "He wouldn't just turn his back on you because of some stupid mistake."

Phil just shrugged. He wasn't the kind of man to lay his heart out on the line (it had been broken so many times, he couldn't keep track anymore). Not like John. "It doesn't matter. I'm not worried about it."

John smiled a little bit. "Philly, Philly, Phil…"

"What the hell is with the look?" Phil asked, a little freaked out.

"I can see that you're afraid. The look on your face tells the entire story. You know that you screwed yourself over royally this time and you're not sure you can climb back out of the Pit."

"Vince loves his money." Phil's comeback was nonchalant, or so it seemed.

"You think that he loves his money more than you." John said.

Phil blinked. A moment of silence. "No."

But John could see the truth. He could see right through Phil's façade. "Why don't you just talk with him? He's still in his office upstairs." John said. Phil only nodded blankly, before he vanished.

* * *

"What do you want, Paul? I think I've made it rather clear that I don't like you. I don't like you – in fact, if I had my way, your contract would be dissolved." Vince hissed, his mouth set in a frown.

"I have the information that you asked me to retrieve." Paul said. Vince's face changed almost instantly. "I was able to retrieve the video camera surveillance from that night. I think you'll find it to be rather conclusive."

"Conclusive as to?" Vince raised an eyebrow as he took the DVD from Paul and slid it into his computer.

Paul walked around the computer and as the video started to play, pointed out a key moment. "Self-defense."

Sure enough, what Phil had told him was true. The fans enclosed him around him from all sides, beating down on him and leaving nasty bruises on his pale skin. He could see Phil's body fold with every hit that landed on his flesh. And then, when one fan put their hands on him and tried to shove him down the stairs, Phil retaliated. He struck out and the fan stumbled backward, his face colored with embarrassment and the start of a smartly colored bruise.

Vince felt awful. Sure, he had believed Phil when he told him that the fan had attacked him first, but there had always been that little flicker of doubt in the back of his mind. That, and the fact that Phil had acted out earlier in the show. His submissive had acted out of line and it was Vince's roll as his master to put him back in his place. But now, maybe it was time to step back and let Phil know that he had been forgiven.

"Thank you, Paul. And about what I said about your contract…" he trailed off, unsure of what he wanted to say.

"You said it in the heat of the moment. I know, I know. You don't have to worry about it, Vince. I'm used to your empty threats." Paul said, a lecherous smile on his face.

Vince shot him a look. "You better watch your mouth, Paul. Before you know it, those threats could become _very_ real." Vince told him seriously.

"Oh, I know. I don't take you for granted, Mr. McMahon. And haven't we had this conversation before?" He asked.

"Guess so." Vince said distractedly.

"If that's all that you needed me for…" Paul trailed off. He didn't sound like he really wanted to leave, but at the same time, he didn't want to stay either.

"You're dismissed, Paul. I'll expect you bright and early for the flight tomorrow." Vince said.

Paul nodded. Vince seemed back to his normal self. "Of course, sir."

Paul walked out. The door stayed open for a few seconds after he left, which allowed Vince to see the hesitant form of his submissive out in the hallway. He called for Phil to come in and the boy did so without hesitation. His eyes were downcast onto the floor, and as he walked over to Vince's desk, his feet kind of shuffled. But when he heard the disc that played on Vince's computer, the color drained out of his face and he froze on the spot.

"Phil," Vince said calmly. Phil couldn't help but feel a rush of relief at the sound of his master's voice. "I want you to head back to our hotel room. Take all your clothes off and lay on the bed."

Phil looked at him oddly, confused. "What do you mean..?"

Vince's face hardened. "Did I say that you could speak?"

Phil was silent instantly. He shook his head.

"Your mouth is what always gets you into trouble, Phil. You want to be respected? Learn to shut your fucking trap for five minutes and listen to someone else for once." Vince said.

Phil felt a pang of hurt, but he didn't comment. He never did.

"Now, I want you to head back to our hotel room and do as I said. If you're not the way I specified, then I will enact further punishment. Is that understood?" Phil only nodded. "Good. You're excused."

Phil stalked off to read himself for whatever his master had in mind.

* * *

After almost an hour of heated lovemaking, Vince had led an almost comatose Phil into the bathroom, where he had drawn a bath. Laying the naked man into the tub, he took a washcloth and started to scrub his skin clean. Now that he had claimed Phil as his own, he needed to wash all evidence of his transgression off of his skin. If he could have, he probably would have washed his mouth out with soap too. But Phil wasn't a child. He was a man.

Whispering words of love to his submissive, he took care of him, just like he always did after they made love. Using a cup to take some water out of the tub, he rinsed Phil's hair. The sweet smell of lavender washed over his submissive as he continued to cleanse him. And as all of the sweat and grime washed off of him, he realized the true extent of his injuries. He frowned, thinking of what he would like to do to the fans that had hurt him.

Phil's head lolled to the side. His eyes were closed, but Vince knew that he was still awake. He could almost hear the not-so-subtle buzz of Phil's thoughts inside his head. Phil was still worried about the fact that Vince could be upset with him. He was worried that Vince would leave him over this. Vince just shook his head and continued to wash him off. And once he was entirely clean, he helped Phil out of the water and started to dry him off.

Half-carrying, half-dragging Phil back into the bedroom, he settled his submissive onto the bed and pulled the blankets up over his lithely muscular body. Phil's half-lidded eyes stared at him slowly, as if his entire body was in a fog that he couldn't break out of. Vince could see the worry that shined there. It made his heart clench. Changing into his pajamas, he slid into the bed beside Phil and held him. The simple fact that Vince was _there_ was a comfort.

"Now, Phil, you might not make the best decisions. You might have a vulgar mouth. You might be making an ass out of yourself. But that doesn't change the fact that you're my pet. I wouldn't abandon you for the world."

Phil blinked slowly, a look of absolute disbelief on his face. It made Vince's heart hurt. "Do you promise?"

Vince nodded firmly. He knew how much honesty and loyalty meant to Phil and he couldn't deny that. "I promise, Phil. You will stay with me forever. And we'll handle this mess with the fan. Don't worry about it, okay?"

"Vince?" Phil asked. Vince raised an eyebrow. "Thank you. I love you."

Vince smiled and kissed Phil's forehead, whispering sweet nothings to lull his boy into sleep. "I love you too."


End file.
